


passing mark

by wingsaloof



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, No Plot/Plotless, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:06:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22638112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsaloof/pseuds/wingsaloof
Summary: Itaru is learning Zahran from Citron.
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Citron
Comments: 13
Kudos: 110





	passing mark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citronshair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citronshair/gifts).



> for a discord server's valentine exchange <3
> 
> italic in dialogue is zahran (except for 'hard' right at the beginning lol), if its in narration then thats just me being boring

“How do you pronounce that? Is the ‘ _n_ ’ mute?”

“Exceptly!”

“Exactly?”

“Yes!”

Itaru shakes his head, wondering how someone who could barely speak his language was teaching him another one. Curiosity had gotten the best of him, or maybe that was out of pure affection — yeah, _the_ Itaru Chigasaki caught himself having that kind of feelings — but some weeks ago, he asked Citron to teach him the basics of Zahran. It could be useful, after all, senpai once mentioned that it was something that earned his resumé some extra points with the higher-ups. He wasn’t one for working harder, but the bonus pay would be very welcome.

The only protein— problem was that Citron’s methods were a little unorthodox... but honestly, what part of him wasn’t? Itaru was sure that lying down on bed wasn’t the ideal position for focusing, and his boyfriend had a penchant for interrupting study sessions in lieu of computer gaming. Citron was always hard to predict (Itaru liked that about him).

“Ready for a surprise quiz?”

See?

“It’s not a surprise if you ask me.” 

It is kind of cute, he had to admit.

“Are you sure?” Citron reaches over to the books on Itaru’s lap. “You don’t know how I am going to test you.”

“Either a spelling bee or a translation exam. You always do these.” He scoffs, and adds: “Since you’ve taken my notebook away, it can only be one of these.”

“Okay, okay.” He puts his hands up, each on one side of his head, assuming defeat. “Translation it is indeed, but I’m going to make things a little _hard_.” 

The last word comes out a little slower, a grin spreading across his face. Itaru raises an eyebrow and tries a correction.

“Make it harder, you mean?”

“Oh, Itaru. You know I always mean what I say.”

Citron moves closer, pressing him against the wall, settling each knee on each side of Itaru’s legs. Blood is already rushing to the gamer’s ears — he’s used to intimacy with his boyfriend, he’s slowly getting used to his always new ideas, his little quirks and preferences, but it’s still a shock whenever Citron comes to him so suddenly. 

The look in his eyes as he does it is nothing short of mesmerizing, and that’s the final drop that makes him accept it every time. 

“First.” He leans in, hot breathe against Itaru’s ear. “Let’s go with body parts. Say...” His fingers tap the side of his shoulder. “... what’s the word for this in Zahran?”

“ _Shoulder_.” While a quick answer, Itaru’s accent weighs heavily on the wrong syllable. Citron doesn’t seem to mind it, sliding his hand down further.

“What about this one?”

“ _Chest_.”

His fingers keep trailing down. Itaru gulps, his mouth getting dryer by the second. “And here?”

“ _Stomach_?”

“ _Abdomen, my darling_.” The pet name was one of the first words he ever learned — whispered against his skin, a tease whenever Citron defeated him online, an ad-lib during practice that made Izumi frown.

“ _Dar_... _ling_.” Itaru repeats it slowly, trying to mimic the correct enunciation, while his boyfriend pulls away to look at him.

“Yes, yes, you’re my darling.” Citron beams for a split moment, his smile almost goofy as he pats Itaru’s head. “Let’s move on?”

His lover replies with a nod, so he settles back into rhythm. “Now, I will point to different places in your body. I want you to tell me their names.” The answer he gets is a sigh, a huff between incredulity and something that feels like “just keep going”. 

Well, well, who is he to disobey?

He kisses Itaru’s cheek, and is immediately met with protest — “I don’t remember this one!” — so he quickly pecks on the top of his nose, playfully.

“ _Nose_.” Another huffed answer, and it almost makes Citron think he should stop playing around...

... as if. He pulls Itaru down to kiss his forehead, and gets his translation, as expected. Chin in hand, a thumb over his boyfriend’s lips, he tilts his head slightly to nibble on the lobe of his ear. As if to raise the difficulty, he settles his other hand under the hem of his shirt, nails teasing against the end of his back and the start of his hips.

There is no immediate answer, so he bites down a little harder to bring Itaru back to the main task. After a yelp, he finally gets the desired answer, and sucks a little on the mark, as a treat.

‘Fuck’, Itaru thinks. ‘He’s really making it hard. All of this.’

It doesn’t take long for Citron to move on to the neck, holding himself back to not leave marks behind. He loved painting Itaru black and blue with hickeys, but the whole ‘respectable office worker’ shtick didn’t allow space for that. Well, not in places that his suit didn’t cover. The rest was fair game, and he holds on to that to prolong his patience. To that, and to the delightful sound of Itaru’s (muffled) moans. 

Under Citron, he keeps squirming with every kiss against his skin, his weak point being attacked under that terrible disguise of a ‘surprise quiz’. It’s hard to remember he has to answer something, let alone know what’s the fucking Zahran word for ‘neck’ — or since he is moving down again, should it be ‘collarbone’, or— fuck, there is absolutely no point in thinking about that right now. With Citron on his lap, starting to grind down from time to time, as slowly as he can, he won’t be able to speak enough Zahran to save his life. 

Finally, their mouths meet, as Citron ravishes his lips with great hunger. His tongue easily slips into gaps, and overwhelmed as he is, Itaru tries his best to keep up with the pace. He’s too easy, he concedes, his boyfriend can pull him into the right mood too quickly. For fuck’s sake, his pants are getting really uncomfortable. One more brush of Citron’s hand against the side of his neck, one more loving bite into his lip, one more push of his hips against his crotch, and he’s going to lose it. He’s seriously going to lose it.

As if he can feel it, Citron pulls away and gets off from his lap. Itaru almost whines, reaching out to pull him back, but he ducks down to avoid it.

“Well, _darling_.” His voice is a purr, teasing him with that damned pet name. “I think you did decently. A few blank answers and some hesitation, even though you did so well at the beginning...”

Itaru sighs once more, praying for whatever is about to come. Anyone would think that it was over by this point, but if it’s Citron we’re talking about...

One of his fingers is already hooked into the hem of Itaru’s sweatpants, ready to bring it down.

“... time for an oral exam.”

**Author's Note:**

> the 2nd mature. will the 1st explicit come someday? stay tuned.


End file.
